The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1887-05-11
JULIA'S SUlTORS.

~ LII - SSt OiNSs
Thus, you see, my dear sir, withoa
her being at'all aware Of the workings OF
our little scheme, | shall be able to Judge
of her fitness to become the wife Of my
SON.
Mr.. Mercer listened rather obviously
TO Moses Morrison, feeling his chin the
( while, as if he We're not al all certain OF
the ultimate success of the aforesaid " III
7 tie scheme"
i Well, Mr.. Morrison; that is, if you
regard the plan as practical"
Practical? Why, my good friend, it's
/ the most practical thing in the world.
! am simply Mr. Martin, your old friend
! from the south. She never will dream
of any relationship between me and
Joseph Morrison, I'm sorre Joe has taken
this freak into his head, but your daugh-
ter really seems to haveinspired him with
: something akin to the devotion of old
times when you and were boys, sir
yes, sir. the good old times, !"
And as Mr. Mercer and Moses Morri-
son walked slowly down the broad, box
bordered garden path, sentimentalizing
as they went, upon the hackkneyed sub
ject of olden times. while full moon seem
ed to smile waggishly upon them from
the edge of the eastern woods, a light
figure raised itself up from the sheltering
foliage of a full blossomed lilac bush with
taper finger pressed close To lips that
were ali scarlet and dimpIed with sup
pressed laughter
Julia Mercer was a tall, exquisitely
formed girl, with reddish brown hair,
sparkling hazel eyes, and a complexion
like cream and rose leaves; as she stole
softly toward the gate, her pink, cham
berry dress rustling among the shrubber-
les, it might almost have put one in mind
of the Genius Of the Flowers upon a
moonlight expedition through her do
mains.
"Guyl"
Sweet, are you there?"
And there was another rustling among
the beeches that oyerhung the lower gate,
and the Genius of the Flowers was no
longer alone
Hush, He has Gomez"
"Who has come? Don't talk in riddle,
ma petite."
Mr. Morrison, the father of my ador-
able suitor, Mr.. Joseph, of the rubicund
countenance and I'm To be the subject of
a stratagem.'
How do you know ?"
Julias dewy hazeI eyes became lumin-
Gus with merriment
IL happened to overhear one. two or
remarks as they were walking on the
other side of the lilac hedge. 1t seems /
am to be the subject TO sort of test, TO
try whether am of sufficiently worthy
metal to be welded into Mrs. Joseph
Morrison. Hush don't get excited,
Guy there's no danger at all, if you'll
only leave it all to me. Papa-in-law is
anxious to know whether | can be trust
ted to make his Joseph happy: 50 he is
to visit the house as Mr. Martain,' from
the South, and observe me from an en-
tirely domestic vantage ground. Did you
ever hear anything 50 ridiculous in all
your life ?"
And pretty Julia Mercer laughed unul
the very full moon seemed to laugh
back at her in an irrepressihle sympa
thy.
q But, Julia"
But, Guy, insist upon being allowed
to manage these matters for myself.
There are times in the plotting of life's
ship when the rudder must be touched
only by woman's hand, and this is one
OF them. You will trust me. dearest, will
you not ,"
What heart 50 marble hard as to resist
the appealing softness of those tender,
wine dark eyes? Guy Hartwick's GER
tainly had no such adamantine elements;
so he only pressed the soft little pearl of
hand in his own and told her TO do
exactly as she please"
Not having been led to expect the adj
vent of any company, Miss Julia Mercer
was. of course, taken completely by sur
prise, the next day, when her father
brought IAN old friend unexpectedly
TO dinner.
She was sitting curled upin the green
moreen hollow of an enormous easy,
chair, her hair q, papilioies, and sloven-
ly morning wrapper loosely belted round
her trim waist.
Julia, my dear" said Mr.. Mercer,
little discomfited, r" this is my friend Mr..
-ahem MIR. Martin, from Alabama
Julia jumped up, with her hands to her
papers.
Goodness, papa she cried, not very
griciously, who dreamed of its being so
late?"
" II is nearly four o'clock, my dear"
So il is; but was 50 interested in
this delicious novel. declare I've been
at il ever since breakfast"
Mr.. Martin, from Alabama, hemmed
violently.
& Perhaps, julia began her father,
lyon had better go down and see the
cook"
81 don't think had better do anything
of the kind" retorted the Miss Julia,
curtly. I'm not the kitchen girl. We
pay the servants; let them do their own
work"
And Miss Mercer subsided once more
into the depths of her novel.
mot very efficient housekeeper,"
thought Mr. Martin, from Alabama, as
he looked around at the dusty furniture,
dog's-eard music, and faded boquets of
flowers, whose roses strewed the neglec-